Scenes from Life
by J. Lynn
Summary: A collection of scenes from my upcomming stories. *Good For Me added*
1. Intro & Disclaimers

**Scenes  
By J. Lynn (j.lynn@email.com)  
  
** What follows is a series of scenes from miscelanious upcomming, or defunct stories. Things that I wrote, but won't be using in the next few weeks. Many of them are placed in the middle of storylines I'm working on, and will be incorporated later. To avoid confussion I will be placing a slight summary of events surrounding each scene at the top.  
  
If there is a piece which you particularily like feel free to email me (or review) and tell me to get a move on.  
  
And finally, absolutely nothing recognizable belongs to me.  
  
On with the show!  
J. Lynn  
  



	2. Why?

**Why?**  
  
This is a scene that's been batting around in my head for a while. I personally identify with many of the emotions expressed within this ficlet, which is why I wrote it. I haven't decided how I want to resolve the story, or if I even want to continue it, but I am working through character issures at a pretty steady rate, so there is a small hope for the fic.  
Background Info: Harry just tried to kill himself (shocking I know. That's only been the plot device of how many fics?) and was stopped by Snape. The following is a scene in Dumbeldore's office. You can assume Dumbeldore, Sirius, McGonagall and Snape are there.   
  
  
"Harry, are you depressed?"   
  
"Not really."   
  
"Then why would you do something like this Harry?" Dumbeldore asked.   
  
Harry could feel the ache well up again, making his voice hoarse as he answered. "Why? Because I'm dead inside. Because it hurts to live. It hurts to breathe, and feel, and get up in the morning. Because I feel like I'm completely hollow. Because I can't feel my own heart beating. Because whether I've eaten or not, I constantly feel like I need to vomit up whatever remains inside of me because of the pressure in the back of my throat. Because I've been waiting for the last ten years to be proven right, to prove that the emptiness inside me will never go away. I've given it so many chances and I know that's all I'll ever have here, and I know I won't be missing anything because nothing else exists for me. I've given it so many chances, and still this is all I have inside me. Because all I want is not to be anymore. And now I know I'm finally ready."   
  
"Harry, we love you so much, how can you say that?"   
  
"Sirius, this has nothing to do with how much you or anyone else loves me. It has to do with the fact that it's not enough. It has to do with the fact that I can't feel anything but a deep ache in my chest. And that's not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you, just me. I'm sorry."   
  
"Harry, don't talk like that. I know you've had a hard time the last few years, but once you've had some time to recoup, you'll be back to normal. Just, please, promise me you won't try this again." Sirius implored.   
  
Harry's face turned stony. "No."   
  
Sirius stood, and began pacing in anger. "Harry, I don't know what to do with you. You won't even give me a chance to help you. I love you, but you're giving me no choice but to have you admitted to St. Mungo's."   
  
Furry swept Harry's face as the words left his godfather's mouth. "How dare you," The words a strangled hiss. Glaring, he raised his voice, "How dare you threaten me like that. I'm sorry I can't be your perfect little godson! I've got problems, I admit it, and when I tell you what's going on you don't listen to a word I've said. You twist it around to- to- something you can deal with and manipulate me out of. You think that you can control me like some kind of puppet! 'I love you Harry. Don't talk like that Harry. Do what I say, feel what I want you to feel, act like I want you to act or I'll put you in St. Mungo's Harry.' You complete and utter manipulative bastard. You think that just because you show up once or twice a year to fulfill your godfatherly duties that you are given the right to control me? My thoughts? My feelings? Listen to me, all of you. Whether I live or not, this is through. I'm sick and tired of being told what to do. I've never had an ounce of control over my life, and now you've decided to do your best to take away control of my death. Well here's a clue, just incase you've missed the point of tonight. Nothing you can say, order, or spell me into will change anything that isn't external. This is how I am. This is how I feel. This is what I want. None of your orders will change that."   
  
"Now you listen to me Sirius. I'll say this one time. I know how to cut people out of my life. I know how to erase and block out every sign of your existence from my self. I know how to hold a grudge, and I know how to hate for an eternity. Your manipulations, orders and illegitimate presumptions have lost you any chance you had with me. You are nothing to me. I give you no control or influence over me. One more ill advised move and I swear I'll hate you forever. And it'll be all your own fault. You're the one who forgot that real influence, real respect, and real love have to be earned. Starting emotions have to be re-enforced or they're not worth anything. I gave you your chances, but Sirius, you blew it."   
  
"At the moment, you're about one square above the Dursleys. And frankly, I don't see anything you can do other than try to keep yourself from slipping any more." Harry sank into his chair still glaring at his godfather. "Now, I'd like for you to either sit in the corner and be quiet, or leave, I don't really care which."   
  
Sirius was pale and shaken, furry long since drained from him, and an expression of numb horror had settled on his face. Rallying himself, he carefully moved over to the corner before sitting to warily watch the proceedings.   
  
Harry's rage had subsided even as he spoke, and the last portion had been a statement of fact, delivered without emotion. Seated, he felt his remaining energy drain out of him, leaving a cool shell in place to deal with whatever else was thrown at him.   
  
fin  
  



	3. Into The Light

**Into The Light   
  
  
** This is a scene which popped into my head a while ago. It may be incorporated into Hour Or The Day eventually.   
Background Info: Harry's injured and the base they've been hiding in is under attack. Ron and Herm have been married for nearly two years and have tripplets.   
  
  
Hermionie looked at Ron and nodded once. Walking over to Harry, she hugged him and pressed a light kiss on the side of his head. Kneeling down beside him she looked him in the eye before speaking.   
  
"Harry, my research is in the Bryant Street theatre, seventh row, third seat left of the middle. Take it to Flitwick and McGonagal, it will help you."   
  
Ron came over to join her, "We love you Harry. You've been our best friend and one of our family since from the start."   
  
Hermionie squeezed his hand. "This is our choice. It's right thing to do, and the way things were meant to be, and no one could have changed that. Not even you. The fates were decided long ago, and this is ours."   
  
Reaching forward she placed her hands on his face and forced him to meet her eyes. "Promise me Harry. Promise me that you'll accept that there's nothing you could have done better, that you'll do your best to live."   
  
Harry's voice trembled and a tear slid down his cheek. "I promise."   
  
Hermionie smiled, and kissed his cheek once again. "Give that to my children. Take care of them, fight for them, love them, live for them. They're my most treasured possessions, and I give them into your keeping. I trust you to look after them. I know you won't let me down."   
  
She took Ron's hand and stood. "Tell them that we love them, and will always be proud of them." She took a deep breath, and her voice waivered as she spoke. "Always, and forever, no matter what."   
  
Turning, she looked at Ron and nodded. He placed a tender kiss upon her lips before together, hand in hand, they made their way towards the door, shoulders squared. And they stepped out, without looking back, and without saying goodbye. Facing their fate together, to die as they had lived, fighting for all that was good and right.   
  
fin  
  



	4. Good For Me

**Good For Me  
  
** This is a scene which popped into my head a while ago. It may be incorporated into Hour Or The Day eventually.   
Background Info: I get the image of Harry and Sev sitting outside, in a field somewhere, under a tree. Having spent the day relaxing and talking. Eye of the hurricane type moment.   
  
  
  
"... Besides, you're good for me."   
  
Severus snorted, "How on earth could I be good for you?"   
  
Harry moved closer, till he was leaning on Snape's chest, and Severus obligingly wrapped his arms around him.   
  
"For as far back as I remember, until a few years ago, I longed... not to be. Once I was able to escape to Hogwarts, I managed to subliminate it, but it was still there. But before I lacked the slightest reason for living. When I was seven I first slit my wrist."   
  
Severus frowned, "So young?"   
  
"A large percent of normal, relatively well adjusted children begin experimenting with inhalant and soft drugs around that age. I -" Harry shuddered. "I wasn't a normal, well adjusted child.   
  
"Had I been even slightly more normal, I would have died. But, as I found out later, because I was 'The Boy Who Lived' Dumbeldore had placed several charms on me. Ones that healed minor injuries, practically before they started, and would go a long way towards healing the bigger ones. That charm was a blessing and a curse. There were several times, after displaying accidental magic, that I could have easily died from Uncle Vernon's 'punishments'. Flexible as children's bones are, they're not made of rubber, and I know that several of my ribs were broken a time or two. But then again, if it hadn't been there, a teacher might have noticed more than a rather clumsy child.   
  
"At first I was frustrated that it wouldn't work. A few drops of blood, and then the wound would seal over like it was never there. After a while, I didn't mind it as much, because it still hurt for a while, which was as good for when I wasn't really down and out.   
  
"After a particularly bad visit with Aunt Marge, a few weeks before I turned eleven, I locked myself in the broom closet. Furious as I was, it's amazing that I didn't cause the whole house to explode. I punched the wall over and over, I swear I broke a finger or two that night, until Uncle Vernon stomped on the stairs and threatened to 'make me be quiet'. Still fuming, and I pulled out one of Dudley's old broken pocket knifes."   
  
Harry held up his left wrist. Small, jagged white line criss-crossed it, splintering off in different directions. "That night it wasn't good enough. It started slowly enough, but as the cut sealed over, I became even more furious. Angry with the Dursleys, Aunt Marge, the world I had no control over, myself for not being strong enough to change things, and most of all my damn wrist for always fixing itself instead of letting me fix things the way I wanted to. I donÕt quite remember what happened after that, just slashing, and stabbing as deeply as I could, before passing out from blood loss."   
  
Severus's arms tightened around him, and Harry took a deep breath before going on. "The next morning, I had a scab on my arm for the first time. So, I pulled on a sweatshirt that was ten times to big, put my bloody blanket in the laundry, and made breakfast."   
  
Since then, I've only tried to do it once, right after Cedric. But I suppose Dumbeldore had added some charms, because the knife bounced off my skin. But at the time it didn't matter too much, because there was still the pain from the last time. The pain from the last time never really went away, just varied. Most the time, it's barely noticeable, but the slightest things can affect it. When I'm upset, it's an excruciating agony. When it's cold out side it aches so badly I can barely use that hand. And when I was depressed, it felt like a black hole in the void, sucking life from me and everything around me."   
  
And even though I'd managed to sort myself out enough that I was no longer constantly longing not to be, even subliminally, the pain and ache was still there. Less but still there."   
  
Harry turned around to look in Severus's eyes with his own, slightly damp, ones. "Ever since we started working together, before we were even friends yet, it's quit hurting while you're around. I think because with you I feel safe and whole, feelings that stretch beyond sense and reason. And, since we figured out that we loved each other, it's stopped hurting almost entirely. That's more than enough to tell me that you are good for me Sevarus Snape. I won't believe you if you ever tell me other wise."   
  
Snape gazed down at the boy, man really, who had just given him more than he had ever expected in his life. And even if he wasn't entirely sure what all of it really was, he knew it was the most prescious gift he'd ever received. "Thank you," he whispered sincerely.   
  
Harry leaned up to place a chaste kiss on Sevarus's lips, before snuggling into his chest.   
  
The two of them stayed like that for a long time.   
  
fin  
  



End file.
